


Innocence

by anoyo



Category: DNAngel
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-22
Updated: 2009-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-03 04:39:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/anoyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year, Daisuke draws something in the first snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innocence

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd! I enjoyed writing this, so if it's terrible, well, apparently I'm crazier than I thought. Originally posted [here](http://anoyo.livejournal.com/145196.html).

There were very few things of which Satoshi considered himself "fond." A full night's rest was one, though he suspected his fondness of it had more to do with the fact that they were a rarity than with any sort of intrinsic love of the opportunity. The smell of rain was another; it was calming and natural, and it served to cool his nerves as well as anything ought.

The first snow of the year was, however, the least explicable fondness that Satoshi could rightly merit to himself. No matter what he was doing, Satoshi knew when the first snow had started, felt it, almost, and he stopped to watch. He had memories of running into the falling snow, as a child, but they were vague and he knew better, now.

Satoshi's second year of high school, the first snow began to fall during his free period, while he was walking to the library to pick up material for an assignment. He stopped, watching the snowfall for a moment, the first few flakes finding their way to the ground and sticking, miraculously.

The moment passed, and Satoshi continued on his errand. The snow would not disappear in the minutes it took him to complete it, no matter the inane worries his mind was spouting at him.

A dusting of snow was on the windowsill of the library's main bay windows as he entered, and Satoshi suspected that this fact was why the librarian smiled at him so warmly as he entered, bowed politely, and headed in the direction he sought.

Five minutes later, he walked out onto the grounds, his task complete in the form of a book warm under his arm. He stopped, in the courtyard, to hold out a hand for the snowflakes to come to greet him, their "hello" a cool melting on his palm. He watched, for a few moments, letting the thinly-spread flakes slowly coat his hand, retaining their shape only when their numbers increased and his hand had cooled. Satoshi let his gaze drift upward from his hand, the angle allowing him a beautiful view of the clouds and the flakes the perfect opportunity to come to rest on his chilled, metal glasses frame.

Once he felt properly foolish, his vision partially obscured, Satoshi lowered his eyes back to his hand before letting it fall to his side. He took a step forward, intending to find a bench from which to watch the snowfall in peace, when he heard a soft laugh. Looking around, the source was immediately definable, as Daisuke's hair offered a startling contrast to the rapidly whitening scenery. The fact that he hadn't noticed the other boy before this gave Satoshi pause, though he brushed that off as having felt no need to assess the courtyard before entering.

If he considered that, perhaps, the first snow had kept his concentration more thoroughly than he ought to allow, it was not a long consideration.

A moment's thought had Satoshi taking measured steps in Daisuke's direction, as he asked, "May I ask what's so funny?"

Daisuke lowered the sketch book he had held in his lap, likely the reason he had been out-of-doors to begin with, and turned it around in answer. The rough outline sketched on the piece of paper was defined enough for Satoshi to recognize himself, hand out, looking skyward, and wonder precisely how long he had been standing, enthralled. "You moved just as I finished the blocking," Daisuke said, smiling. "Just right, so I have the figure right, but I'll have to think up the details myself."

"I see," Satoshi replied, walking the rest of the way to the bench upon which Daisuke had seated himself for his sketching. He sat, slowly, next to the other boy and let his gaze drift back to the falling snow. "An assignment?" he asked.

"No," Daisuke said, shaking his head. "I saw it start snowing and came out to draw the light it created," he continued. "It's sort of a tradition. Every year, I draw something in the first snow."

Letting his gaze drift to the continuously whitening scenery, Satoshi was able to see that to which Daisuke was referring. Though it was overcast, as it must be to produce an even blanket of snow, the purity of the snow bounced the available light back into the air, giving the courtyard an ethereal glow, no matter the cliché the idea carried with itself. "How do you decide?" Satoshi asked, letting his gaze unfix again onto the snow as a whole.

"Well, the light. There's always a source of the light, isn't there? But in the first snow like this, I always imagined as a kid that it had to come from something other than the sun. The light, I mean. So I look out and try to decide where I think the light is coming from, in this particular first snow." Daisuke smiled, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. "Like a kid, I know," he said, though he looked less embarrassed than he might have.

Satoshi moved his gaze back to Daisuke's sketchbook, now resting across his knees, the soft pencil lines reflecting the light in a similar manner to the snow. "So you decided to draw me?" he asked, humor in his voice. Maybe it was the fondness he felt for the first snow transferring, but Satoshi found himself a little honored to be the focus of Daisuke's sketch, rough though it was.

Daisuke shrugged, joining Satoshi's gaze on the sketchbook in his lap. "It was where the light was coming from. I mean, _you_ were where it was coming from." A grin lit Daisuke's face and he looked toward Satoshi out of the corner of his eye, a moment Satoshi felt more than saw. "Not that that should be surprising, though, right?" Daisuke let his smile gain more amusement than tranquility as Satoshi's lips quirked.

"Arguable," Satoshi said. "But I can see the irony."

One of Daisuke's hands moved to the back of his sketchbook again, holding it at an angle from which Daisuke could work. His other hand guided his pencil back to the page, slowly filling in the details the blocking could not present.

Contenting himself to watch the snow in relative silence, Daisuke's sketching a quiet _scritch_ in the background, Satoshi let the small grin stay on his face.

When the bell for the next period rang, Daisuke blew softly across the page of his sketchbook, removing the filaments that would smudge when he drew it closed and stood, brushing the snow off his pants. "Ready for history?" he asked, smiling at Satoshi.

Standing slowly, Satoshi replied, "Yes."


End file.
